


When you touch me like you touch me

by KittyAug, KittyAugust (KittyAug)



Series: Of Hunters and Hellblazers [18]
Category: Constantine (TV), Hellblazer & Related Fandoms, Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Morning After, Morning Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 21:12:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3148712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyAug/pseuds/KittyAug, https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyAug/pseuds/KittyAugust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean wakes up with a half-naked Hellblazer in his bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When you touch me like you touch me

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from the Nazareth song _You’re the Violin_.
> 
> This was meant to be the angsty, cynical and blasphemous scene... but this had to happen too. So that's up next instead. Sorry!
> 
> This occurs after [Domesticated Punks](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3094028) and [Bad Ideas and Kitchen Sex](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2782823).

Dean wakes up with a half-naked Hellblazer in his bed. He’s never had someone else sleep here - in the Bunker. Not in his bed. It was always too dangerous to bring back a random hook-up. And Crowley had him out of there and miles away from Sam before he even learned to hide the black eyes. Not that he slept _then_ anyway...

For a somnolent moment it is actually pleasant. Lost in a warm place between waking and sleeping. Constantine is all blood-hot soft skin over the sort of wiry form that only comes from running for your life on a regular basis. Tucked into Dean’s side one arm sprawled across the hunter’s stomach. Dean can feel sleep deep breath across his shoulder. The smell of sandalwood soap, whiskey, smoke, and sex.

“Fuck.”

He searches his whiskey clouded memories for the night before. Did they do anything that would give him away? Had Sammy noticed? Oh shit. Cas...

That look on his face. Like Dean getting off with another dude was the most confusing thing in the frigging world. Like this was the thing that finally made him realize what a useless person Dean Winchester really is. Violence. Gluttony. Destruction. Fine. Abandon your newly human ass when you needed him the most. Fine. Obliterate your heavenly rebellion. Fine. Turn into a frigging _demon_? Fine! But going gay for the Hellblazer? Nope. That was the sin that finally pushed an angel too far.

And now he was going to put two and two together. Cas could be naive but he wasn’t stupid. He was going to remember everything that went down in that dingy hotel room in Rexford. When Cas was human, and broken and so freaking lost - and Dean just couldn’t fucking help himself. ‘It’s just part of being human, Cas... fine, I’ll show you...’ then the real lie ‘No, it doesn’t _mean_ anything, Cas. Just relax... Forget it ever happened.' But Castiel didn’t forget things. He just trusted Dean to know what was best. Looks like he’d finally learn that lesson. Fuck.

“Fuck!”

“Hmmm? Give me, a sec, luv.” Constantine stirs, starts peppering lazy kissed along the lines of Dean’s chest.

“Do you have to do that?” Dean snaps. Scrubs his hands across his face.

The exorcist pulls back suddenly. “No?” he says. "I don't _have_ to." Propped up on one arm, looking at Dean curiously. But Dean can see more in him now. Knows him better because so many of those dangerous and destructive habits were his as well these days. He can see the man start to shutter down. Preparing a snarky shield. Anticipating the worst. Hand on the edge of the sheets, ready to bolt if he has to. If it gets too real.

“Don’t start,” Dean says. Because it is easier than don’t go. Or I’m sorry. Or it’s not you it’s me. Hah. Don’t start? Don’t start what? It isn’t even his phrase. He learned it from the Hellblazer. But it works. It pulls them both back. Resets the conversation and he’ll never know why. Maybe it’s the memories tied in with it…

> _Walking down a dusty Baton Rouge street in the Fall dusk. Dean arguing or bitching about something – no idea what. It was more than 11 years ago after all. And the Hellblazer turned around and snapped at him, “Don’t bloody start, Winchester.”_
> 
> _“Oh, I’ll start something,” Dean had said. It was meant to be a challenge, maybe even a threat. But Constantine’s eyes had lit up and he lost track of whatever it was. Dean grabbed the guy by his lapels and kissed him. Right there in the street. In freaking_ public _. Hot and heavy. Tongue to tongue. Hellblazer’s hand in his hair and another on his ass, Dean’s still urgently grasping canvas. No one even noticed. No one even cared._
> 
> _“I thought we were bickerin’?” Constantine had said, smirking and breathing a little harder._
> 
> _“Don’t start, Constantine,” Dean had said. Stealing the phrase, the smirk, and another kiss._

Dean traces a thumb across his lips, following ancient memories. Looks up at their source. He’s changed, of course, and aged but slowly. Much less than Dean would have expected. If you didn’t know you could assume they were the same age, maybe even that Dean was the older one of the pair. And isn’t that a lovely thought.

“Why do you keep doing this?” Dean asks. Why do _I_ keep doing this? Why do you keep coming back? Why would anyone put up with me? Are you actually stupid enough to trust Dean Winchester? Why…

“Doing what, mate?” Constantine sits up properly. They’re not touching anymore but he doesn’t get out of the bed either. Just starts looking for the damn Silk Cuts on the side table.

“Me.” Dean rolls his eyes. But it earns him a slight smile.

“Same reason you do, luv. The sex is bloody brilliant… and-” a pause. Like he’s not sure about saying the next bit. “I know you’re as likely to get shredded by your own demons as eaten by mine.” He shrugs it off. Like it isn’t the most meaningful thing they’ve ever said to each other. Dean shivers. Constantine lights the cigarette and inhales.

“Door locked?” Dean asks. A precaution. He was drunk, sure. Drunk enough to drag John Constantine back to his bed. But he doesn’t think he was _that_ drunk.

Constantine glances over then nods.

“Good,” Dean pushes himself into a sitting position. Leans forward, places a hand on Constantine’s jaw and brushes the slightest kiss across the older man’s lips. Enjoys the moment of surprise reflected back at him. He slides himself into the exorcist’s lap. Takes the cigarette out of his hands. Takes a short drag before putting it out. Why is there even an ashtray in his room? He bends down into another kiss; slow and temptation smooth.

Because why not. Cas is going to tell Sam. He won’t even know what he’s doing. He’ll just want an explanation that he knows Dean will never give. Or, worse, Cas will just leave. Won’t say why. And Dean will have to scratch and claw and dig into himself like a hell-bound soul. Have to rip out his defences and _explain_. He’s already dropped the freaking ball. If he’s going to burn for this he may as well go out blazing.

He presses forward tries to bury his thoughts in sweet friction and ever more heated kisses. He’s still pliant and a little open from the night before. Gasping and grasping for it. What started as an indulgent tease has turned filthy. John is kissing back with an open ferocity that cries out to something deep inside Dean. Something he normally buries but right now wants to let out. He scrabbles blind for the lube and condoms above his bed. Not wanting to break the eager smoky kiss long enough to actually use his eyes. Doesn’t want to draw back. Doesn’t want to give up a second of contact.

In this moment, with the door locked and the demonologist’s hands on his hips, he can pretend. Pretend that reality isn’t waiting. Hope and pretend that every dirty little secret will stay buried in a warm blanket of self-loathing. It won’t last. But if he holds on tight, digs his fingertips into John’s skin, maybe he can hold it all back. Just a little longer.

And of course that is the exact moment the door rattles. Dean bites back a whimper as they both still. Trying not to make a sound. Whoever it is knocks. Shit.

“Dean?” it’s Sam. Fuck. “Are you awake?”

“Mmmmhm?” Dean says noncommittally.

“Have you seen John? Chas says he’s not in his room.”

“Nope,” Dean says. Glares down at Constantine who is grinning like this is the funniest thing since Monty Python. “Have you… um… tired the gun range?”

John raises an eyebrow and looks at him like he’s crazy. Dean shrugs. Then he can feel Constantine start to shake. He’s laughing. Dean clamps a hand over the Hellblazer’s mouth and glowers a warning. That just makes him shudder with even more repressed laughter. And god damn it that actually feels kinda good. Fuck.

“Um, no… should we?”

“I dunno, Sam. I’m not the dude's keeper.”

Another smug eyebrow. A glance at where Dean’s thighs have him pretty much trapped. Dean makes a face that is meant to communicate ‘shut the fuck up’ and ‘play along or I won’t let you fuck me.’

It doesn’t work. Because the son of a bitch bucks up under him. Causing their bodies to slide together, digs his hands into Dean’s hips and causes him to gasp. Audibly. _Damn_ it.

“Dean?” Sam says and his voice has a sharp warning to it. Fuck.

“Just gimmie a…” Dean tries to say but then the Hellblazer bites his palm, gets free enough to suck Dean’s thumb into his mouth. Holds eye contact (and Dean is pretty sure that’s his move). “um... a minute Sammy.” Lifts a hand off Dean’s hip and places it on his achingly hard cock. Fucking _fuck_.

“Oh my god, Dean, you’re not… ”

“Why else would the door be locked Sam,” Dean snaps because, seriously. If he’s figured it out then he can just fuck off. Ten more minutes at least before the inevitable meltdown. Is that really so much to ask?

“Fine. The rest of us will go find John while you enjoy your time with Busty Asian Beauties,” Sam snaps back. “Glad you’ve got your priorities straight Dean.”

And god Dean could die from relief if it wasn’t for the fact that his body is ramping up for a totally different kind. They're both shaking with inaudibly laughter this time and yes that feels really good too.

“Ok…” Dean manages to say.

“Oh, gross!” Sam says.

“You have… no idea.” No freaking idea…

Dean starts to freak out a bit himself. But then he's distracted. Looks down and sees that Constantine has found the lube and condoms he was searching for before. The older man smirks up at him with a question in his eyes. And whatever Dean was trying to think slips away. Overridden as a litany of oh, and fuck, and yes, and please.

Dean kisses him again before answering. Sinks back down into the hot tension of this moment. It won’t last. He can feel the threads unravelling around him already. But for right now, he’s going to ignore it.

“Fuck,” half-whisper, half gasp.

“That’s the _idea_ , luv.” Constantine winks up at him - saccharine with promise and temptation. And, yeah, Dean can totally put off the world just a little longer for that hellfire grin.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tumblr - <http://kittyaugust.tumblr.com/>


End file.
